The group stumbled out of the ruins, the air heavy with dust and the smell of burnt wood. The sun was setting, casting long shadows through the trees, painting the forest in shades of orange and gray. Every step felt heavy—each of them tired, worn from the battles they'd fought inside that dark place.
Borin was gone.
No one said it at first, but his absence was like a sigh of relief for them. The others had barely noticed until they were already outside, far from the ruins' cold, dark halls.
Varka was the first to break the silence. His voice was rough, tired but certain. "Seven… you've earned your place with us. You've proved yourself today."
Code Seven looked away, his eyes tracing the cracks in the dirt beneath his feet. He didn't feel like he belonged—never had. "I don't have a place. Not here. Not anywhere," he said quietly.
Varka frowned, stepping closer. "That's not true. We're a team. You're part of it."
Seven shook his head slowly. "I'm not like you. I'm not made for this world… not yet. The power I carry is different. The peak of what I can be is still far away. I need to find answers—on my own."
The others looked at him, surprise and worry flickering in their eyes. Trin bit his lip, and even Rell's expression grew serious.
Jin broke the silence. "You think you can learn more alone than with us?"
Seven met her gaze. "I have to try. I've seen what this power can do, but I don't understand where it comes from. Or what it really means. Staying with you is safer… easier. But I won't grow that way. Not fast enough."
The group exchanged looks. Varka's jaw tightened. "Traveling alone is dangerous."
Seven nodded. "I know. But if I don't face that risk, I'll never be strong enough to protect anyone."
Jin surprisingly stepped forward, hesitation in his voice. "be careful. We will need you somewhere in the future."
"I will," Seven promised quietly.
For a long moment, no one spoke. The forest around them grew darker as the sun dipped below the horizon. The quiet was filled with the sound of rustling leaves and distant birds settling in for the night.
Finally, Rell spoke, his voice low but steady. "If this is what you want, Seven… then you have our support. But remember, you're not alone forever. Find what you need—and come back."
Seven nodded again. He felt the weight of their words, both a comfort and a reminder of the loneliness ahead.
With a final glance at the group, he turned and stepped deeper into the forest. The path ahead was uncertain, shadowed by mist and mystery. But it was his path to walk.
As he moved away, the faint pulse of his sigil throbbed beneath his skin—a reminder that he carried something more than just a blade. Something that might lead him to the answers he sought, or to dangers he could not yet imagine.
---
Seven moved steadily through the thick forest, the earth soft beneath his boots, muffling his footsteps. Branches brushed against his sleeves, leaves whispered in the gentle breeze, and far above, the sky was a patchwork of clouds and fading sunlight. He had been walking for hours, the path winding unpredictably beneath towering trees that blocked much of the sky. The forest was alive with quiet sounds — the distant call of a bird, the rustle of small creatures hidden in the undergrowth, the subtle hum of insects.
Every step felt both familiar and strange. This place was part of the world he moved through, yet somehow separate from it, as if the Infinite Planes itself breathed through the roots and leaves. Seven was alone, but the pulse of his sigil beneath his skin reminded him he was not truly empty. It throbbed quietly, like a heartbeat, a silent rhythm guiding his steps.
His thoughts drifted as he walked.
"How long have I been out here?" he wondered.
"Days? Hours? Time feels different when you're lost inside the forest."
The weight of uncertainty pressed on him. He needed answers, but the path was not clear. The ruins behind him were dangerous, and Borin's actions still lingered like a bitter taste.
Suddenly, movement flickered in the corner of his vision — a quick rustle in the bushes just ahead. Seven froze, heart beating faster. His eyes narrowed. From the shadows stepped a small creature, no larger than a dog, but strange and wild. Its body was covered in coarse fur, mottled brown and gray, and sharp claws dug into the soft earth. It sniffed the air nervously, its eyes glowing faintly with a strange light.
Seven's breath caught. This was no ordinary beast — it was one of the smaller monsters that roamed the borderlands between safe places and the unknown. An opportunity.
The sigil beneath his skin pulsed stronger. He focused on the familiar sensation, channeling the power of [VoidSteps] — the ability to move unseen, to slip through the world like a shadow.
In a heartbeat, Seven vanished from sight.
He reappeared silently behind the creature, his legs coiled like a spring. Without hesitation, he swung his foot down in a powerful kick aimed straight at its head. The impact was solid, and the monster collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, stunned and barely moving.
Seven breathed out slowly, the adrenaline fading. "This world is harsh," he thought, "and survival is its only law." Hunger gnawed at his stomach, reminding him of a basic truth — he needed to eat.
Kneeling beside the fallen creature, Seven reached for his small knife. Carefully, he began to prepare the meat. The forest was no place for waste or carelessness; every scrap mattered. As he worked, he kept watch, his senses alert to any danger lurking nearby.
The air smelled of earth and pine, mixed with the faint coppery scent of blood. The forest around him seemed to hold its breath, still and watchful. When he finished, Seven wrapped the meat carefully in a piece of cloth, then continued his journey.
Hours passed as the sun dipped lower, shadows lengthening and merging into the growing darkness. The forest began to thin, trees becoming less dense, the ground leveling out to reveal a narrow path lined with moss and wildflowers. Eventually, the soft sound of flowing water reached Seven's ears.
He followed it, heart quickening with hope.
There, nestled between moss-covered stones, lay a small pond, its surface smooth and mirror-like. The water was clear and cool, reflecting the darkening sky above. Seven knelt by the edge and cupped his hands, drinking deeply. The cold liquid refreshed him, washing away the dryness of his throat and clearing his mind.
He sat back on a mossy rock, feeling the weight of the day settle into his bones. His fingers traced the rough bark of the tree behind him as he pulled out the materials he had collected earlier—the sinew strips, small bones, and pieces of tough hide from the monster he had killed.
These were not just scraps; they were the ingredients for a ritual, a small rite he could perform to kindle a fire and ward off the cold night.
Seven arranged the materials carefully on the ground, forming a pattern he had learned from Jin. His hands moved with steady precision, fingers brushing the earth as he whispered the words softly under his breath. The language was old and strange, but the power behind it was real.
A small flame flickered to life, trembling at first but quickly growing steadier. The fire's warmth spread out in waves, chasing away the chill creeping through the forest.
Seven stared into the flames, feeling the comforting crackle and pop of burning wood. The heat warmed his face and hands, drawing a sense of calm over his weary body.
He pulled the wrapped meat from his pack and carefully placed it over the fire. The smell of cooking flesh mingled with the forest air, a reminder of both life and death. Seven ate slowly, savoring each bite, the flavor rich and grounding.
As he sat there eating, his mind turned inward.
"Where do I go from here?" he thought. "What path will lead me to the truth I seek?"
The sigil beneath his skin pulsed quietly, a steady beacon in the dark.
He remembered what the group had told him: the Infinite Planes were vast and unpredictable. They twisted and shifted, hiding dangers and secrets alike.
"I need to find someone who understands this power," he thought. "Someone who can teach me… or at least guide me."
The fire's light danced on his face as shadows flickered around him. Despite the loneliness, a strange peace settled in his chest. For the first time since leaving the ruins, he allowed himself a moment to breathe—to be still.
Above him, the sky darkened to deep blue, stars beginning to appear like scattered diamonds. The forest whispered softly in the night breeze.
Seven leaned back against the tree, eyes half-closed, and let the quiet wash over him.
"I will find my way," he promised himself. "No matter how long it takes. I will make sure of it."
The fire burned low as the night deepened, but inside Seven, a new determination grew — quiet, steady, unyielding.